TYPICAL
PEOPLE,
LOVELY
ARCHESlife
between ancestors and prosperityPRETTY LOVABLE
PEOPLE,
TYPICAL ARCHESprospective revivals and platitudinous reversals
around the inter essence of real runners and stunners as rolemodels. Prospects
for and perspective on their inter-essentializing possibilities, revivals
and reversals and platitutorial potential as providance-revisionary rolemodels.THE TITLED SEGMENTS: x
x from density to tensility
x x Madonna, my
vulcano x x polystrata(-)fi(e)delity
x x Cernunnos churns us on to learn discern
yearned for earning x x mint
mind, a hint to grind x x turn
pre-delection inside out x x me
oh my Mercurial Curiosity between hideal and low deal x
x hell is inner fire
x x Jesus came for kids
x x regarding 'King Jesus' by Robert Graves
x x don't just recycle, pre-cycle
x x fairytale about a screening for a show
of hands x x Jewish
Jesus x x Jews
x x you wish to stress jewishness
x x metal x x
clout
of faith or benefit of doubt x x mettle
x
x clean carma doesn't do with clean up carma
must undo x x sword
and stone x x dogspell
wardback x x toy
and tell with and in the key of Petrus x x
does
peter pan plug the pope's propitious clue properly?
x x royal pee, priestly poo and purple peep
hole prophetricks x x|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||Welcome
to the future flour(y)
pow(d)er fostering;
potentially fastest and already (for sure)
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about 7 Megs spread out across over 88 files(averaging
over 88 K'z colourful concept- harmmonized and hyrarchical wordsequences,
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=Bottom
LineAphoristically
BallisticSolutions
which will (dis)solve all uncivilly polarizing centralizations,break
up and open (c)lumpy niches and lumpynesses,
wether
they be institutionally animated or simply, inertly dormant(yet
animatable),by pushing the logistic
limits (to light) inventively, notably those (rocks) constraining vertical
metabolisms (of trees).(Only
partly hypered)(on-
to offsite-)link filesat
this site are in a file called: commendablinklist.htm
and
new_links
and
recent_links.htm
and
fifth_linklist.htm
and an (almost fully hypered)
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in animals and may wake up in
man, sunshine may become soil, that
may sink in and split up into fluid and gaseous, even go clear yet most
solid or be aborted. In the beginning all of creation came up
and runnin', traces began to flow, grow and ripen, but the preformfiller
and smallmost common ancient clays couldn't receive an any more racist
and polluting or less enlightened and refreshing respect from its purportedly
likening yet irresponsible and certainly not yet on rolemodel type behaviour
brood. What thoroughbred semi-urgent emergent or metanoid demiurge(ss)s(es)
dare talk of decency, durability, tree lifespans, millenia, world years
and foreign zodiacs of assorted animata seperately, let alone put 'm in
perspective, even test their theses for horseshit and try monstrate what
feels good unless they had a fucked up life on the bloodline front, best
stimulant for thought and dealings with death? From density to tensility: The
good kings and queens played the fool and all other characters, travelling
with many a manner of guise and mixing among the pickyest of pranksters,
but now there is a status hiatus, and the (st)age (p)act gadgetry needs
some updating badly too. I want to shift the blotchy blurry blind stare
at and shallow lipservice to not yet fully differentiated, nonetheless
honourability status claiming pub(l)ic stage craft into focus on magnificence,
depicting main squeeze projects intended to hop, skip, jump and jog pauperized
mindsets of the general populace into a more consciously jetstream steadying
way of life, a state of magic fragrance as visiting cards, an internal
weather dial that can tune into your favorite timeslots and -lifespans,
where we-at-her becomes we with and for her lest we wither. Madonna, my vulcano: (Kenau
is butch bitch in dutch)Some
flours rarely and barely bloom, others clump, shear and bump, still others
buckle and boom to escape from gloom. What
mad Ma(ma)donna
might say to please and make me come to her senses: "I'm a nice girl really
but you won't find a hole in my defenses unless you worship me from hard
rock bottom line, ground level, the soles of my feet on up (but
down first). Make my queendom grow soft, luscious
and more resiliently tensilized into tall, spacious and harvestable shelter
shade shedding, rain and shine soaked suckers for at least a bunch of acres
worth around. The compelling proplexity of my Rock-Church and Crutch-Cross
theme could use some fairly fearless fluffulation" and pollution free processing
at the very least. As it happens, I set foot on the eroded hillside dropping
away from her home and left an ugly black crayon smears on a shred of notepaper
(I
came terribly unprepared and prematurely right away, I just couldn't believe
my luck when I found out were she lived, peddling around the Hollywood
Hills asking a few people), I am sure this
didn't morphogenetically pave the way for a less serious but all the more
fanatic stalker, mister Ho Skins (no, he ain't
Chinese), did it? Recent rouser bee queen Madonna can sire
my fire, should she such desire. Heard she got herself pregnant meanwhile,
no hard feelings, wish her and family all the best (extensions
thereof will surely not exclude me for no good reason).
Not that the stars weren't willing, I got as close as her coverdesigher.
I guess she 'll have to hire me before she can fire me.
I am a rare applicant who happens to put both the earth moved to find it
and the diamond if found by chance to general use and mutual benefit, it
is the only thing that will really sway her swarm the playful right of
way. 'T is time economics took reduced oxides
into its value standard calculations. See chapter 2 Poof, went the witch and pop rock was no longer aloof: The annual
Musicvideo award pickers of the National Association of Brick Distributors
(toc
tic, rock brick) would be flabbergasted, flattered,
astounded, stunned and tickled pink to see a less squary way of branching
out with their raw quarry rock as a resounding massively weightpulling
and thus paying audience which produces a poundage product that will toll
their bells, ring their registers, scale the range, throw 'm for a loop
and evoke a spiralling round of smoothly growing stages all the way to
the topmost of tuneful ton tricks: treeripeness. Simply from stooling music
on sound philosophy and sensual fulltime foolproof provision within; it
can set ills straight again, accept, expose, respire, forgive and even
help'm emancipate themselves from having to cater to monopolies
(see flunked flyer, previous chapter). Best
of all, ween''m from merely symbolic Rockmusic in one fell swoop.
Acquarius: I need to do my mime and
model shows with rock and bottle blows. Have a bottle of water disguised
as a rock and pour it into a real one, the stream symbolizing trees; consider
the tarotcard designers. It probably wasn't safe to make much of treelore
or were they trying to show that we learn about a process and principles
when they are near enough gone missing links? the tarot cards. Lets do the moany musicky click n lick
tickle trick: Meeting
my anamnesiastic nemesis named Madonna at a cata- and prolepticklishlike
clip, a fast spacing pace through inner tie ya. Well past a vanished age
of smiling dawns where wood could sprout, shoot and ripen some choice morsels
of defendable melodymade throat-toned fortune wafting its fragrance my
way to clear it cause in the traumatizing face of skinned and racked muse
mentality, I mean lumbered life, slaughtered laughter
(refering to the neighbouring skeleton of a house under construction where
I ruminated and even spent a full moon night on my third and last fruitless
visit), which wood-might could have been good
enough to replace forgotten surrogate $3 shades for the space of a fully
matured oakspan or so, instead I find it cut, skinned, sliced, squared
and nailed into a cagey box skeleton with a dirt pile in front right at
the top of the amazingly steep slope with that eagle eye mystery appelation.
I
realize now that meet-mating and updating "Homers daughter "(Graves,
R) isn't a natural wash up shipwreck, but
a slow deliberate climb (up Oriole drive; Oriole Pa holds its own special
mystery for Dan Winter by the way); to make the leap of faith and look
my destiny in the eye with a spectacular daffy off of the neighbour's roof
down onto the earth pile heaped just in front of it as she was passing,
yelling something circuslike and fanciful might have furthered my
welcome nicely. Such delectable afterthoughts
always happen to me cause real life has been so unpalatably premature to
me busily mourning missed and spoilt chances (compost
compiler would be a swell job for me) that
I still can't stomach it real fast and squint at it quite a ruminateous
bit. I did not clamour for a penetrant audience like Lyotard's greasy foreigners
in 'Pacific wall' which I read at the time, I did not trade a promise for
blood like a pro-, or con(tra)-semite. I played the mute game, no astute,
pert, witty, full force justice visualized and erected to match my melting
and crumbling heart at the mercy of breathless
(or sooner perhaps out of breath at that highpoint of the drive)
chimerae. However strong I know my charm to work on the free people picking
me up freely for a free and freeing ride through time and space, it has
always failed again and still again to fool the rich customer kings and
queens (my customization credit sits in the bank waiting for a profitable
enough scheme so the use veto can be repealed (it's not really as strict
as I make it sound here though) but no luck so far and I'm not to become
a conform converter if it means I can't turn rocks inside out at the same
time, besides, a good clip is beyond my budget, however big by comparison). Dutchman meets Madonna on bicycle: Dear
Mad Onna, I find it both strange and understandable that you are the first
performing artist I feel open enough to expose to
(sorry I did such a timid job the first time, have to plumb your plum-crazy
depths later). Not that I can match your at
that fatefull unexpected moment well disguised, famously tantalizing sexposture,
truth is, I had no clue about your size
(the
bike I had managed to borrow that day would have fit you funny enough),
or accuracy of the location even till you peddled abreast; nevertheless
I dare pledge our resonance will not fade. A hunch, a hint and fancy may be vain company
indeed. Tis a strain to free them that detain without no less than those
within you. I don't know what kind of traction stress you prefer these
days, but if you get bored of satirizing army-platoon-tanks, racetrack
picket-ticket-startingline packs or orgasmic sperm and what have you militation,
you could try my more potent, perky and crowded rock-city-forest stretch
and mingle ideas free of (monopoly money)
charge, it even comes with a full force of real current cause it is eternal
coin of the realm, touch on that thorough enough and you will finally justify
all eyes on sunnyer behaviour training tricks, even if it means the deathknell
for your polluting industry! I wanna pull
Madonna's hair, get mamatrixed into her lair. I am gonna blow her mind
so she will give me a job (no bland playboy pun intended). A
flag is a flaky windmill, a defiant flaunt in the face of abundance, a
symbol of democratic dictatorship and therefore manipulated majority with
mechanisms for ministering to mouthflapping, gullible and leachable people
in place. Curb all the rest of the bribable babble rabble. Sloppy homework,
girl, though a viable sprout you be, your flag needs framing before you
can set sail to follow your noblest star, it takes a rootin routine to
go apes-hit a gain. I love you and am calling
on the cutting edge of time against all odds, to drive my wedgy radical
streak into the chockful chokeyness of seemingly impervious depthless surfaces.
I will pump and stir it, romp and purr it, my mother aimed high and yes
you can have her job before she dies. Wish me well with my swilly swell,
will you?!?!?! It aint all done yet, but so far I am grateful my
spiritual eye alighted onto innermost physical darkness; yes, mama
lies low way down deep and she dont teach, but her blessings still
remain within reach, it is the mutely dark and dense part of her
we are going for and after.
Polystrata(-)fi(e)delity:
Peter
Pan and Daedalus get tarred and feathered by Wingspan and v, Franz. Gilder's
book Naked Nomads applies to me the same way and as much as do Ahasver
traits as described by Klages (with his one time but then denounced bloodbrother
in mind), yet they are blind to the vital and bright aspects of nonconformists,
though skirting and flirting with shamanism in a skewy squinting kind a
way; the trying, mostly impure, and one on one type home blasting
(by other means than having babies), fires
of that difficult road does indeed lead many into a hedonist deep and dense,
a choozy few however come through and begin to expand their charisma, juggle
more and better concepts, steel their will and tighten their tactics. If
we may reckon gender bender Madonna amongst such jesters slouching toward
the golden mean global christal clarity symbol decoding and implementation,
I can only regret she has not found and funded a better strategist than
me yet to meld and weld Chaplin's cane, Harlequin's dildo, the jester's
bauble, Mercury's caduceus, the rockstar's guitar, Black Peter's club,
Cernunnos's torque-coil-spring-wringing ramheaded snake, cornucopia and
Jesus's symbolic cross and metaphoric sword, the witches broom, Arthur's
excalibur, Peter's keys and various other totempoles into the updated version
of potent tools, the wielding of rather than yielding to which (up
beat vs beat up) earns the right of way to
bed and birth babes and studs. Male bonding mechanics meanwhile are equally
deadly at both extremes of excessive shooting, wether in bed or on the
battle field, Choosing between deadly militation and miserable marriages
for gender rolemodel guideline, the younger generations are always willing,
though rarely skilled enough to create some state they will own allegiance
to from scratch, so that often is as far as the itch gets, specially when
weakened and sedated with comfort, delusion, false modesty, disempowerment,
substitution, boredom, protest, drugs, etc.Soil
remineralization is the essentially not yet conscious cornerstone staging
for natural abundance with a few equally obscure, misinterpreted or even
forgotten exceptions like the mythical Deucalion, Sisyphos, Antaeus, Golem
and Cernunnos. Mieke Bal her reading of Eve's creation may count as hints
in this direction also. Albert Carter Savage, Julius Hensel, Mueller, Morgan
Sampson and others from recent history could use some support and relief.
Cernunnos: turns me on to yearn, learn and earn a fully fleshed out revival
version of his tool for ultimate discernment; nature's staple stamping
status symbol: the ramheaded, tensilated and torqued metal snake. I will
try to explain what I feel may be the meaning of this loop and slipknotty
type tool of timely lag stagger supreme. I suspect
the antlered Celtic God Cernunnos once dug into pretensile, prelaxed and
tensilizable but yet tightly time, on hold with baited breath (witness
the miming of a rock any woman desiring something perpetrates) keeping
gravels, with its thought ful fil a mental strategic "teeth" he lay
and relaxed some in the crook of his rock squeeze, crack, crunch, punch
and unstiffen staff, maybe he even had different ones to suit the casing
at hand, metal was not a very common commodity and maybe not even that
yet in the Celtic world he roamed, but he made good use of it and so he
deserved some. I am a late
descendant from or early ascendant back up to him and I can spin spirals
with my axle, I used to need a hard surface for my mortar pestle type "hammermill"
to work, but now.. screw the pedestal, this snakerslaker is even dynamic
enough to follow me around, I 've always wanted a mobile rockcrusher to
seek out the hidden parch links with, one with a real cockpit ful of keypanels,
like a woven cocoon with remote touchtone crush, shatter, polish and spray
action (appropriately hoppersized and loaded
waterpropelbarrels matching the octaves arranged in a spherically shaped
steeldrum or springily flexing snailhouse-caduceus-pump-strainer... see
chapter 4). The "current"
coin of the realm which Cernunnos sowed all over the forest earned him
the title: Lord of animals (probably signifying
sentience and animation at large Are there any academic search engineers,
willing to try them on this topic, out there?), he
could play time like a flexible accordeon, all creatures loved him. He
is the type of "green man" in vogue today but unlike the kid sitting around
the fire place playing with ashes till it gives him the idea to start a
garden, I am sure I cannot give Robert Bly credit for linking and/or recognizing
this high and turning point consciously but at least he got this most significant
segment-sequence right, though barely, as if only from hearsay. The closest
I got to approach picturing characters with the power, scope, range and
influence of people like these so far was long ago, while reading the beginning
of the originally spanish tragedy called: 'the child with the globe", which
Robert Graves translated. Cernunnos
turned rocks into dust-spec-heaps and out to life inducing reduction at
the bottom rungs of our organized life ladder. His type torquey tool unpaves
and deblocks the rocks on the road to peaceful growth and decay, literally
nipping misguidance in the bud, unfolding and -firling many a joculant
slap in the face of death or a flocculant pinch in the cheeks of life,
his touch and go squeeze spanned the Celtic ages. Mint mind gives a hint to
grind: "Put your t(h)rust in dust", said our marblous lord of wealth
and underworld: Cernunnos, dispenser of the physical realm coins. He was
a purer and nitty grittyer rolemodel for Robin Hood, whose finer lines
of work in progress are bloated, blurred, neglected, bypassed and stretched
too far for comfort with the dis- and extortion derived, later and merely
symbolic monopolist currencies of stripped and abstract number juggling
magic, taking gold traffic off the road to fair (and) markets which boycotted
him good. His thrust is a must, but his bouts of striking out and around
are reactionary, not sunk in sink. The history of shaman ringleaders for
a more natural and folksy life and their subjection to church rule and
militant clout is treated very interestingly in Rhentergems book called
'When Santa was a Shaman' which shows how Saint Nicolas and Black Peter
or Ruprecht (symbolizing the captured and
enslaved shamen of yore, the earliest and longest lasting hit since early
image making, indeed fusing the functions now divided among media, theater,
politics, etc, in short: spectacle) were dormant
and then fused overseas into a Santa Claus a century or so ago. Cernunnos
is one of the rarest yet oldest figures in history, somebody in LA did
a thesis on antlered anthropomorphizations, I forget who at the moment.
Turn petrified pre-delection inside out:
Ironic
that man for a million years has taken up rock to use as projectiles, "make"
tools with or arrest interaction through walls (more
selective membranes than mountains), in short
to change the shape and course of the lifeforms as they were before the
hit or rub that was directed against them, leaving the projectile itself
unchanged. It increased his reach and spared his teeth some effort but
except for select visionaries like Adam, Moses, Deucalion, Anteaus and
Cernunnos, little still does he suspect that with such reactionary use
of rock as catalyst he is sparing his teeth and bones sustenance also,
not to mention his responsibility for life around him; one more prime set
of invertable reversable candid data concerning rock. Don't pick up a rock
to change some other shape with but change the shape of rock itself. For
more multiply sustainable and long term lifetimespanning across the spectrum,
the ultimate gratification posture-ponement, that is the ticket for a welcome
sextension of our welcome! We are part hide and part trouble seeking
addicts and with regards to the latter: as part-icipatory soilorganisms
we score to a lesser degree, the hybrid hype of hi-tec pomposity,
lightheaded- and heavy heartedness notwithstanding.Robert Graves's disproportionate awareness
of blood versus dust left him leaving us suprisingly shallow reference
to Cernunnos.Me oh my mercurial curiosity between hideal
and low deal: I hail from, move toward and am wholly (t)rapt by Mercury,
Cernunnos, the fool and Black Piet as much as poor Jesus. Befriend
heaven, trade with earth and be diplomatic with hell, or is more to be
gained from intimacy with hell to free the earth and thus fund heaven?Let me tell you they might all have went to
hell as well and easily as I can, I can help imagine how to bounce back
just as comfortably as I know how, to supply fresh suppleness.confashion again: Dog year third
time around for a man with bad teeth, starved early on for things to put
them into and mental bites to work on, but gaining on stalled time now,
for diamondlike clarity. Hermes
is naked but with his caduceus and wings he may well have been as
capable of reduct- and marketabilizing the wealth of lost moments as his
Celtic colleague Cernunnos, they both tended to send the G force tenderly.
Trafficking with the underworld its wealth and leave such less savage,
circling and cycling along on their proper axis. Hells inner fire: Be hellbound for
trouble to come up with a godly gain. Rock music, that sound magic may
scrape and grate the doors of hell away once it gets a bite to match
its mark. The raindance soak, trickle water stream
and the lifetime lushing light beam together they flow into crushed, multiply
voluminous and unstuck rather than decimated deadlock rock this is remote
kinwinning redemption of our sin which greases the wheels that drive the
drills and mills to make such acces welcoming inroads on hell with
and aims at a ceaselessly uncreasing roll of rock on, in and through time. I pick up rocks their thirst to slake and
all hell breaks out to live loosely in my wake. Just scrape your subjects mealticket as your
own existence justifying homage to them off the doors of hell, then
drape it with the tears of joy weeping, merciful and provisionary eye in
the sky. For the making of some jubilee dusts fluster
most crusties with lust for more sust are easy to muster, they love to
help make more of its organizing music lustre. Help hell imbibe and partake of heaven cause
without it the injunction to love thy enemy for mutual improvement remains
rethoric, it blocks, shades, indi- and con gests the professor more often
than not. Any land upon which you may alight has bottom
borders made of solid time, where ghosts and dusts wait in preunison for
that slow release through the mysterious funnelinks of time's tunnelinks
unless we ball and chain-gang-bang-chore and score their way clear. Pray for strength
and bring to bear it on life well, then prey on rock with a chip
and a chop chap away at the gates of hell and raise its content up. In- and persistently cohesive rock, the hellish
doors of death will take a hint, a prayer, a pry, a snoop, a prod, a nudge,
a hit, an investigation too, in exchange for hopeful heaps which turnachurn
up fresh green overhead to support shade and feed what bounds, bungles
and leaps. Hellaceous gravitaceous rock is
our creditstore for, and accesible with coherent emotion which is, love.
The
right kind of bell tells hell to get well.
The
debt we owe gravity is the one we owe hell and helps it feel swell, growing
into heaven as I hope you can tell.
Day and
night metaphor machinery: ultralight might righted and megaheavily bereft
left wronged. Jubilee and mourning is a dusty end to sadness
and a-djust beginning of lustre. Few
things go global succesfully so far besides big monies as extremist as
their forerunners: redeemer heralding beligerents, false prophets, fake
messiahs and roadsign climbing millenarians; it seems they just can't stop
and wait to face themselves, they are bad timers, disorganizing, extortionistic
and distracting. But a loving torque shall snake around all childrens credit
stashes, absconded and stuffed into hell to pull 'm back to life. Don't shut up and off, put your ailing foreignness
up and through to it like all true blue planet huggers who gave direction
and inflection to black and blue planet sluggers.Profess(ionaliz)ing: Ingrationary
integrity takes discerning grate rates that spins the kind of hi-tec shamanic
strap-strain-strewment-strings to win the flavor for and favor of
next in line kin. Wormship the ground, push the border of hell
back down a little deeper, make 'm softer a little, more hospitable to
burrower and creeper fend for further inroads on its pent up captives.
without your help it never (pr)evolves. From rigid and rigged uptight hell to riddled
and flocculant joculant swell, help harvest our portion of radiance;
another way of putting the sun in its place, incarnating and calling home
the sun of a dogstar's relative coming up roses with the raised
from hell, rising from death's domain, a jampacked dreary dreadknot
realm.Light spirals into formerly stark, dry and
dark uncoiled and moister cloisters to lay up treasure for a diamond age,
it bounces up, sucks and lifts the no longer dense and tense in- and onto
life's lively ladder and scales of organic meanings and sensible choices. The sun is a suction device
evalving the dark for a lark.Jesus roots his cross in the devils loot to
try hard for pumpin kinskin back and boned up to stage, reach and ripen,
his undying spirit has none but kind truck with hell, cause he takes and
gets on, over, in, through and out with it quite swell. Jesus came for kids who would be giants:
No
news is good news, but without the sun living leaves can't spell out the
bright future of soilbanking. My theme is found hidden in all reaches,
realms, domains, disciplines and manifestations of thought I have laid
eyes on or heard about, could you stomach this any betterif I served it
on a golden platter? Mercy and justice are like gratitude and
initiative or sunshine and dust. .. Mobilization modelers: Are
crosses perverted trees, heavy karma tricks, car matrix? Ideally knowledgeable
innocence (Jesus) goes to hell and back up to high heaven, bearing bounty
in exchange for the use of liberating gifts and emmissaries of reconciliation,
even if only symbolically, but so far our powertoolkit only served to exacerbate
our scarcity carnage momentum and does not respond to merciful rain and
shine or elicit ones which improve the cross as a vehicle for rides to
and fro death. In the original and unsent letter to Madonna (app 3) I drew
a little cartoon of a tree and a cross morphing into each other as well
as a crucifix and sword becoming a mortar pestle work-in gear.Is
technology psychically sensitive and chargable, traumatized or resulting
from trauma itself maybe, a cancer, a usur(p)ed mishap? See Lawrence Rickels
for a circumloquacious answer. Dad
wasn't hard on peace? He certainly can't be moved to 'beleave' it like
I do, I wasn't hard enough to kill cows, let alone trees, he shows no mercy
ideologically but more than most simple folk, materially; he reads the
lipservicing story of my sun of a bitch brother in spirit with the severest
gravity and so only clean kind of magic he manages to convey but the days
he expected the world from me or I from him (rather) are over (see chapter
3B). Yes
sing the praise of a sun born on the guiding faith in his father, logo
no? He knew a technic- and formality solving scenario for efficient info
processing, he was a first class rainbow programmarstammerer you see. Uncrypting
his meaning makes trouble, and clean kind of troublemaking is his riddle
deciphered. Don't
you think Jesus and anybody with even a remote incling of what his footsteps
measure out and lead to has some speaking up to do after they see themselves
through dark dungeon bottleneck deathbound habitland? Jesus
invested his life in the dead of darkness and though he was tied hand and
foot, he made out good in the functionally punctuated viscosity of soultime.The
day of judgment dogma says one world ruler immanent thus ligitimizing centralization. Jesus
went ahead, then rock and now money goes global by word of mouth, and meanwhile
many more means of (inter)media through punch of keys but hardly anybody
goes local biomassively speaking, I intend to do so anywhere effectively
and often enough to seem global. Jesus's crist-al-mighty crumble-cruncher:
takes
his shine to the heart of matter so they grow-flow up cleanly green. The
mythology around Jesus as a choice, chosen and choozy one among all men,
the one to win out, succeed and gain the day is a preflexion on the dawning
realization that of all semen only one carries the burden of victory, he
is able to make up for, yet causes the demise of the others, this is just
a simile for that lucky lonesome sperm, the winning lottery ticket, the
brief illusory moment of singularity and focus. Did Jesus die for every one of Adam's descendants
from and among apes, will it benefit only the lucky few that were part
of and partial to his line as in the lucky sperm recursion mechanism? I
didn't force him to provide me with a rolemodel or even ask me for nor
as the sacrifice, yet as such Christian interpret(end)ation would have
him; I don't want any part of that. I personally prefer living for the
good of my fellowman rather than blaming or thanking them for allowing
me to do, priding myself to have done, or boasting of going to do the unasked
for opposite even if I knew or hoped it would be pawned off or chalked
up as a blessing cause it proves this, that and or the other. Should
I expect to be misunderstood as much as Jesus was? Regarding King Jesus by
Robert Graves (see app 3): Graves's view of the mission Jesus
had in mind was: reconciling his deeply split personality encoded in the
traditional lineage combo of royalty with the priesthood and it rings true:
utterly charismatic yet aspiring to the most sterile form of logos law
and order.
It is based on an Egyptian text which (inspired another Jew
in Vienna : Otto Weininger tremendously also) says that Jesus as Rep of
the Great Spirit came to end childbirth (but maybe he meant overpopulation,
excessive spermspouting or childlabour) and that he thought mothering was
bothersome, so he tried to force the hour of miraculous hermaphroditic
or postsexuality, yet he received his royal deserts from the hands of people
that desired similarly to be emancipated and believed equally in or at
least smokescreen lipserviced a Deity who could end all this chaos of Godawful
rhythms in time that you could never count on cause they were always changing,
but who were just as equally and inexorably embedded in nature and subjected
to its tides.
So he was ritually hung like the traditional
kings of old for a year and day, who served the mime an rhyme mysteries
of a more powerfully feminine age in time, yet he proved to be viable fruit,
harbouring seed and concept of the sort a lot of people clung to through
the ensuing periods of globalization for and with technology, fatherrule,
law and logic, what queen was he fighting for anyway? Don't just recycle, precycle: Jesus
's last resort was a desperate kamikaze strategy to force the hour of a
once and for all end to suffering, due to excessively and exclusively biased
birth and death hyrarchies according to scholar/poet Graves in King Jesus,
yet going to hell and back teaches and shows efforts expended on behalf
of vertical traffic and symbolizes the trading of animosity for peaceful
animation, smoothing spinrates for all of life and death as a whole. So
Jesus proved well enough that there is no time ending father in the sky
(at least not one to let his hand be forced) no matter how many lambs offered
to the tune of some demagogic atonement, it's mostly just sinners down
here sinking their quick fix and noxious sustenance under the watertable. Internet: Jesus called daddy's bluff,
or rather that of 'his' prophets and psychic momentum bubble builders,
I often want to stop myself from participation in the paternal promise/bribe
complexities (see Pa Pafka) and do something really radical for a change
too instead of merely dumping this here at best symbolic though significant
kind of gesture on Internet to help cross and spin the actual, potential,
possible and real good, true, just and beautiful along, like allow suppressed
schit-split prefs to surface from smoking flavorsome fragrant bud all the
time and immerse myself in rainbowtrail kitchen and scout work no less. The labyrinthine global ball and chain or
terminal and cable ghetto of Interknot portends the rosy riches of the
future yuppies with the clout of popularity potential that I am scurrying
and scrying about and after for as well, but without too many deep illusion
prone high hopes though, at least not very often... May we mutually serve
each other('s) subjects into objects of desire (mudfling parties) to turn
humans from the hopeless to the hippies into a new breed of future dealing
role models:grippies. To most Jews Jesus was an unequipped messiah,
a problematic usurper, all powers of nature and even supernature will not
be left standing in the way of conjecturing culture, which subjects animal
magnetism and charisma to highly charged taboos for and on its monstrators
especially, even if they seem to want to have it both ways, like Jesus,
it earned him a realm in ever neverland and this age of suspended judgment
in all matters but profits public or private which boils down to damage
for humbler life. Jesus appointed portions of intangibly distant
spaces to take place in seemingly solid time and vice versa, which may
be related to what the Dutch call: the bullet is through the church, meaning
the decision is made and the stage set.I think and L W Lyons with me that christianity
means crystal inanity (according to Cioran it is the death of language,
refusal of selfknowledge). Fairy tale about a screening for a show
of hands: And Jesus on the cross said
in a loosely handoffish way: "look ma, without hands", Mary smiled depreciatively.
"Well, that 's nothing" she said, "you should have seen me make you without
a hand from the person you are trying so desperately to challenge and prove
exists and/or if he ever did figure in matriarchy, just goes to show what
people will do to be infamous, but lets forget it, I'll start some sprouts,
you will be hungry in three days, after all this you will see for yourself
that only independence gives you a true charisma son, so now that you learned
your lesson, we will see if we can't turn that prepotent cross-s-word puzzlementator
of yours into a perpetrapenetrator type toy." Would your god send only one sun to weave
the long time travelling rays with the wet drops and some fresh dry dust
together upon arrival? "The ballad of Judas" shows Jesus as an extremist
and projector; was he intolerant saying that those not for him were against
him or did he really speak up for and about life from its humble rockbottom
beginnings as the ultimate sharing experience? There is a hyrarchical sequence in Jesus
his power over and responsibility for death and life, however much it spins
round so as to make itself less obvious, he went down before rising
up like Antaeus, he didn't put life to death but applied his to it exemplarily
under his most difficult circumstances, rowing with the oars at hands as
the Dutch say, meaning even with your bare (or pierced in this case) hands
if it is down to that.
I give some pieces of parched peace a splashy sprinklelike spray till it
gets the gooey, slap and blurpy consistency of fresh clay in honour
of our most famous baptizing fetishist nicknamed cryst-almighty, concerned
as he was with things light and flighty, ironically he got lumped
in with a long line of kings and proved good enough to eat ritually along
with more common things. Fullfillment of prophecy; was Jesus in fact
forced to yield to the cross and won't he come back till later when things
have gotten even worse or did he wield it spiritually rather than 'merely'
physically, or only symbolically, to wet our appetite and wait patiently
to be welcomed back in our gutsyest midst all the sooner? The bicker and
battle in the different leagues of manic maniac monopolies is edging to
that borderline vulnerability of any such peaking process, so, will the
bed to suit the benevolent descendant of ultimate evil power soon be made?
Let'm do their worst with this hope and comfort in mind, you fellow human
grist for such mills. See Gilder for a counterpoint (taken) that
a once and for all switch-glitch is a fiction, nevertheless some institutions
are around too damn long and that is fact even though by default and the
very kind of projection I have just described. I let my limbs make my point with the pivots
stirring in a moving center stage gravity target, I suck in my privates
to draw up dark motives and diffuse pubic revelry; waking and upping our
recall capacities, not faster through but deeper in to present time, spraying
sprinkles, waving webs, weaving screens and blowing bubbles. I am bonely lonely, best left all one only,
how else can I write a missive from hell and show that the richest, godliest
power of a nature groom (g-rooming, Dutch: ruimen means the holds or clearing)
personification ever to walk the earth, cannot have it all without shopping
around there for a couple of days, his toppled levity goes tumbling through
gravity and heavyness, he takes a dive to adjust and precord the reaccordabblibles
like Antaeus.Jewish Jesus: At
father's most recent argument in particular I was not blamed for his sake
but that of somebody who died for my sins, the prince of peace, a man with
no less global ambitions than the people that produced him, the most aggressive
and expansive strain of virile, inventive yet desertifying cultures or
should I call them the first unwilling and pacifist victims of such pressures,
to become aware of and start trying to outrun it, who's memory of and homesickness
for the greenery they commemorated with such profusion in Biblical metaphor,
made them roam in search of some more help and haven to the extent they
were in- and affected by melancholic nostalgia for the very things they
lost, overcame, -ruled or destroyed in the appallingly continuous process;
a very torn legacy but all in all some few sooner seem of greater influence
as forerunners than they may be as victims and/or fighters of decidedly
globalizing changes due to conspiracy of the secret sort, invariably lacking
in goodwill and common sense, no doubt countless many more try counter
this but are hampered by the very fold they are unwilling to shake and
unable to unite, all in all the range pendulum must swing and stretch in
either direction equally far I trust and wider in their case than for any
other kind of people I think to be sure. Jezus presumed on his dad's timetable,
fatherdear proved unwilling to be rushed and would rather allow his son
to postp(r)one himself to a time when people can easily visualize riding
clouds, understand synergy, magnetics and see through incarnation cycles.
Rumours of aliens in cahoots with the worst of secret government and hitec
type earth repair tribes roughriding rainbow storms will hotly contest
the honour of having their way with the inevitable inscenation of such
air born ambitos, I 'd prefer to see trees rise, simply ascending and taken
aloft by dark sin redeeming sun, helping growth; raising mightily crumbled
crustal cristals from the dead. Jesus tried to lead the way back to fertile
dirt or at least he is in, on and up it. Jews:
Of
course we long since lost track of who is one and who isn't, we all are
as much as we all are monkeylike. A better designation for the wrong kind
of trouble in the world would use terms denoting behaviour and disposition
to measure imposure, imposture and many more im's. Take for instance James
Demeo's forthcoming and ongoing work about patriarchy and desertification
as guidelines rather than blood ones. This said, let me play around a bit
as I did well flippantly at the bottom of the loquacious chapter. Is
ra el? No, ra is not el, neither is the sun very well, cause it hasn't
met and mated with the bounty from hell.Zionism
and propaganda vs scionwood and propagation. "He
who hates himself is immodest" Cioran quoted by a posthumous publisher
on the back of Theodor Lessing's book on JewsWhy
soil one's garden from rockbottom on up or keep one 's brothers mothers
in smooth unsmother, I begged you a question or two, you split personality
jew? A
monkey practises patience and prudence, the jew is half monkey, half god
and perseveres in preparing a global network of power for a Messiah. Half
man, half god and perfect nobody can be deviously anal and congested or
precipitously psychedelic and hitec, yet ridiculed, crucified, underdogged
and perverted. The former figure they will manage to (pur)chase a golden
snail (in)to Jerusalem (=possesion of peace)
come
hell or high water. The latter realize the snail must, can and best be
at peace whereever he goes with prudence, perseverence and patience. Jews
are a number of tribes who's bloodlineS are tied, tried and trying, paradoxically
enough they got famous bycause of the talent for serving and sporting the
opposite: dry logic and all knowing centralism, a very special and old
concept taken to the Indians if there is any truth to Mormonism, though
they never allowed it to degenerate into a merely symbolic monocultural
icon like legal tender, neither did they pretend to fight religious wars.
Make
trouble for kin, trouble before skin, whaddaya mean foreskin? Trouble making
to stay motivated and learn to earn before you yearn. Sexuality steadied
or abstained from altogether as a power source. Jocularly
dirty minds make do with the images but they fan a peculiar fever in more
materially and less cerebrally oriented folks. As
soon as, when, and cause we start realizing more and more talents get merely
projected to and squandered on conjuring reacting to supposed threats from
alien nations and persistent hysterics concerning preparations to visit
the grey, (funny enough)
monsters of deep space in the halowed name of defense, withstanding nor
resisting, we may notice that terrestrial, imperialist expansion and colonist
dominance trades indecency and taboo status with and eroding from concommitant,
equally unceasing, more primary, blatant and directly sexual versions of
firing away at appraising and speculating about beautiful targets being
beset and beleagered by bogey and bogus stungunners in hot pursuit, it
seems the same people who equally much love to be left in the dark with
the latter try to leave others in it about the former commodification victims.
A
remarkable Parool article (may 96) featured the acknowledgement that meat
is a stimulant, a drug. Some Jews have vivid memories of paradise fueling
their fond visions about how to find and go the way back of the heart.
They are heavily endowed with and sometimes keenly aware of reason's plodding
grope and gripe with symbols and tollgates. you wish to stress Jewishness
and chew on the use of dualism which chooses jewels and dues over fresh
fallen dews (also see white po(w)der
suspends, chapter 2) The
protocols of Zion are also said to be a work by Machiavelli originally
(and
that can be true since he was a jew, just joking with you).
It basically says that all imperialistically bent people must become or
manipulate lawyers, bankers and doctors in order to swap opinion and gain
global power. The ultra rightists who have almost a hundred publishers
that I know of in the U S say things like: "whites are the chosen and threatened
ones", so and so did this and that beginning with Adam to justify their
genealogy of power centralization and claim the rights to it for themselves.
Clear, clean, deep blue eyes are indeed as rare as proper forests, which
may be the physical kernel of truth that fuels the frantic extremists. The
myth of the wandering jew can profit from my motocross, arms race and mineral
cycles metaphor mixture meant to leave the pack and stink behind, to overcome
lucky sperm and lottery fancy. Poly-pag-animist
orgiastic season followers were met and overcome by the chaster, sublimating,
yet unfortunately more sterile and explosive charge of econo-miserly and
expansive perverts, mentally gay, massacre and missile minded males, worst
jews in the lead, the best warning against these and advocating a different
course. The
jew; adapter, trader with mindful thoughts and oughtful blinds, wandering
spirit, globalizer, admirer, mirrorer, namer and manhandler of more and
more creation, substituting animal for human and later (among
the first) to leave behind blood sacrifice
and multiplicity altogether in search of a unifying principle, subjected
to heavy yet vitalizing pruning, though one could argue over the selection
criteria, plodded on through hardships, escaping the desert and trying
to outrun the desertifying habits under his skin, bearing the brunt of
conspicuousness from perspicacity, loquaciousness and joi de vivre, running
his psychedelic, mixing, mercenary, range spanning and stubborn curiosity
through all barriers, past all tests, prying beyond sensible spectra. The
edge of bitterness from christian mangling and mincing opposition softened
by amusement over the fact that landowning and professional restrictions
which were meant as a punishment allowed as much as forced some Jews to
perfect yet more innovating power of mindgames resulting in making them
generally applicable, like the cramped quarter philosophies of island lover
Darwin and pessimist Malthus, but he came to full blown self- and soulsearching
crisis with a macabre twist when the strain that set out to conquer by
subversion and unfortunately laid waste in the process (tho
to them it was a matter of making it look more recognizable to his short
term memory in need of excorsize for survival during their mercurial sojourn),
to Greece, Italy, Spain and France, in turn came upon a segment of the
human family that turned out to be willing to play the chosen ones games
too, albeit inverted, thus holding up the mirror to them; the secret
agents of ungraspable logos, law, spirit, global exterritoriality, text,
many disguises and bloodlines met and grappled with Blut und Boden Betreuenden.
Result? Hollywood and Disneyland. Any
mixture of blood and memory is a chance for complementation and vitality
as much as one for contradiction, obscurity and confusion. Indeed we see
both manifestations across the on the whole more colourfully diverse and
especially weatherwise extreme American continent. The
Germanic with Semitic mixtures result sometimes in blue eyed no- or woe-mansland
hybrid High-breds who go pregnant with a harmonic and very visionary feel
for futures far off and pasts long gone, these individuals were so supersensible
and anachronistic that their strain is prone to suicidal tendencies as
they shrink from workloads, loneliness and beleagerment by expediency survivalists
operating at any cost that promises profits and the comparatively numb
convention from both sides of their heritage.
A prime example of these was Theodor Lessing who came close to formulating
and dredging my theme up well and way before me, between him and Klages
there was the dualistic rub which proved such a force in polarizing politics
then, but might have resulted in plenty fresh dust had they managed to
mime and model what were at times almost perfect formulas, especially Lessing's
who was assasinated on foreign ground by some dumb Nazi hoping for the
price put on his head, in 1933. Lessing realized very well that rare flowers
rarely breed true but revert to older stock, yet life on, from, at and
of the mental level shows a different picture though, doesn't it?.
Yes. Well, hopefully anyway. If
nomads with no pride of place, pying the puppet show piper, are responsible
for amelioration of the worldwide phenomena of slavery, patriarchy, testosterone
terrorism, war and population explosion, cause their frame of mind first
hit upon and got stuck on political economy or plain power of commerce
as the best way to wage war by other means, there are still fewer but nobler,
diamond among cole ones that will nurse, ripen and bring us the truely
tidal, complementary completion of the de- and centralization processes
cause they are just a little ahead (witness
the shaping of the movie industry, though media technology has its origin
in frustration of more basic and immediate, but most of all moving engenderment
efforts, which is why encryption seems to be taken more serious than indexation,
so it is a bad example really) of every body
else in no matter which field of endeavor, especially in a 'mental is tops'
one though, gaining the day as I write, in this era of prolific and accelerating
information hype. Lamentably few seem to be looking for the humbly common
connectors to enable repair for stable and sustainable cycling as I understand
it. Immensely
compact, -piled and -plicated pasts must be recycled, such is the law of
tectonics, but also that of Palogenesis, Psyche bogged down with toggling
memories, boiling eruptions of DNA (Dwelling
Need Acknowledgment) as a one time hippy-front-fighter
put it), proper mourning to come clean for a fresher morning. If this had
been a good piece of writing, it should already at the beginning have listed
all the instances necessary to illustrate each of the above generalizations
with sources quoted, preferably authoritative ones like the as is rumoured
(starting
right now) soon to be no longer secret services
but I make do with a reference to my bibliography. My
eleven years of curiosity and distaste by turns, for conspiracy literature
starting with Ezra Pound (Graves disliked him), through and past antisemitism,
corporate cunning, CIA, defense lobbies, white supremacy and ending with
the positive kinds of (eco-)monetary (fertilizing=banking=state=insurance=theater=media)
reform (I am considering going to help Joern
Zube out) gives me the impression that there
is a shift of focus away from financial and ethnic emphasis to a modern
technology and alien( n)ation centred criticism if you can call it that,
running themselves away from beginnings with, into endings by, clear into
and/or out of, dust; never working a livelyer way with it which god doesn't
forbid. It
doesn't pay to be suspicious of dark dealings and sly secrets in a full
time way, though we all like to avoid nasty suprises, becoming concerned
with them to the same degree we lose faith and have lost control to obscure
and remote centers, which is easy to do for most people when they try balance
the books and come up with a parasitic streak that seems to be pushing
done, overdone and gone status with deeper roots than an outsider
can finally fathom or fabulate fully. Metal: Two of the most idiosyncratic
metal handlers in history are Jesus (the temple coins) and Cernunnos (the
torqued ramsheaded snake-snag used to fill the bag with freshly minted
coin of the realm); the differences are complementary (Jesus did mentally
for soul what Cernunnos did physically for nature), they were similar "blubbermen"
in the know about the merits of a trip to hell and back, appraising the
devil as tribute payment to a priceless sun.
How many mudflinging kings who use their
enamoursome armor to repose amidst batches of ashlike bashed rock do you
know and if none, why not be one? A matter of poking the chockfully choking
if you can trade the benefit of doubt for the clout of faith. Jesus lost his cool over metal in the temple
but had to be nailed to a cross, Jesus's tongue wagging table turning versus
Cernunnos's tool spinning coin-minting ring and fling, yet Jesus seemed
to suspect that the higher you want to fly, the deeper you must pry. Rainbow Hardware washes well on worlywide
wishlist: Metal ore is a substance intensely subjected to fire, then
for the most part fashioned into hurting, hoarding, herding, hounding and
hiding implements of scarcity brash and brawn, testosteroid terrorism and
exclusive ways for more and more devious and parasitic segments of the
gene pool, hopefully only temporarily overriding general balance but extinctions
prove the opposite more often than not. A gadget with performator traits
on the other hand is an earth moving tool of rainbow magnitude to meet,
match, mate and mingle lofty aspirations with earth's upper crust its utmost
weighty good to do the plumbing between heaven and earth and string weave
some fractal tube-springs together, the real reel man to this manner born
is a tecno-tarzan dreamtime mimer who will not forget about every body,
but get-a-bout-for every body, he substantiates symbols, he programs attraction
attire from mud to marble and back there, hence ever after forth. Biospherical disciplines and freedoms meet
above pleasantly frequented and adjustabled bottom bounds, which will come
to be seen and shown differently, cause I bear with them borders and
rub fresh dust from rock's blind stare to help soak up the water and take
care not to spill their precious fare of reduct flair back into space
thanks to the pretty polish of a dare for which I bear my brunting ware
that never traps live limbs in its snare, I wear it hard with dignified
fun for fine and fair folk just about anythere where it matters will I
do a just bout right near there where wisdom's hardyware will see its way
clear into rock for rain n shine knitting life close behind
and welcoming the rootright of way. .. Mettle: Why lift dead weight into
the live body's build, draft the lively and brash into the deadly brawl,
why whip organs and glands into despair for buck sake????? Why not try
whiptongue grafting a scion of some promise into your congenitoralhood;
say after me: I will be squeezing those rough, tough and tumble impervials,
those uptight skin and boney marble stoney rocks, to set them rumble-crumbling
and soaking up water thoroughly. They are brutish in brunt (preglacial),
yet once wet will become politely servile.
Bodybuilding works with the painbarrier mystery in an inverted narcissistic
way, causing egos to bloat and muscles to bulge leaving dead weight as
an idle fixture to be lifted and lowered in an endlessly musclebound, identity
calousing and sterile repetition. You can't win or lose very much without
pain says Schwarzenegger, but he don't seem to mean it the same way I or
Ray do. Real ease from released trauma takes mental clarity to see the
pain in, pain out delay that constitutes the rift between heaven and earth.
So much diddely squat for looks since they kill the core of sensitivity.
A better way of pumping iron is rearing Excalibur, the rockgearing and
obstruct clearing quickness fitting fix for livelyness, no idle fixture
that even when lifted lets and puts down dead weight still very much the
way it found it. Sword and stone, one hell of a dynamic
couple: they come with love
in a queendom --excalibur cuts credit and slack from death and stirs
debt to life-- Excalibur must quell the land before hairpulling womanchase
is justified. Lance a lot (a kind of Cernunnos and infused with the same
unbeatable and far reaching qualities of the character in "the child with
the globe", translated from Spanish by Graves) would best the king but
for his magic sword which breaks when peace breaking jealousy enters the
fight. His own servile and harnessed alter ego wounds poor naked Lance,
his wound festers till the queen touches it. Yet later not only the queen,
the sword chooses Lance's side as well, but the patriarch, still not fair
and square enough, rents this quadruplicity also, no dicing, minting and
slicing, melting and pouring of flowing oxides, love's prime staples, allowed,
let alone growth, reduction and transpiration, in short, fenixing of them.
Sex per tease, flawless flow, Excalibur is an unmuddled piddle, reared,
geared, charged and equal to the task of rending the mask and setting it
adrift to assuage the rift between its sedentary complacency and unengaged
providential information, between betraying the fold of introspectacular
formality and the sun. Rock and me can and must wait for the day when blows
that spring leaks instead strike home for liberation. Let me fuse you onto
the fission mission inside out of longlived inert power body, between it
and the flimmer twinkle tickle, the seemingly seamed up yield their invincibly
chaotic panic powder to the time rhyming wielder of stitch unsticking wiggly
Excalibur which readies the rock to be watered and return 'm reburnable
ashes to timely sentience. Without this the wet is wasted, with it, water
becomes transport for growth (much faster and more warmheartedly) as the
sun collects the dues in the form of harnessed challenges just as lovingly
as its own are offered. Any sunny side upping rocks to cross the way of
the sword will come to know the mettle of defence as hairline crack and
basic seam sublissim-age maker of lively livery. Dogspell wardback: GREEN GOSPELS
GROW LUSHER LIKE DOGSPELLS BARK AND USHER GREENER GROWLZ You throw a
blessing that beats the doggy bone trick, when you choose to chew some
rock right quick, as if it were really just a stick. Could new identification
criteria be a help? Buckminster Fuller, geodesic designer tried for some.
Let us take biomass; its weight, volume and diversity with parity all the
way up the chain from desolate isolation via singlecelled organisms and
despite one up man-god-war-shippers through to-get-her workinship which
was given Adam to name. Biological banking on the balancing buffer where
masspower and energy reciprocate and meet, yes yes, the devilish slack
can meet the host who plays creationist in your backyard whenever and any
time he is ready before it is too late to set such a stage. Onward with
the tree of life, it needs a loving, room and man making touch base grip,
a reach into the gloom doom womb of crickle crackle reducible rock. No
doubt we can unfold and sprout life from her with a kite of a cross, a
drummilling sexcalibrating earthy weapon. I am studying the harlequin, jester, fool,
joker, king, trickster, clown, withch, preacher, doctor, banker,
fruittramp, gypsy, wandering jew, shaman, saviour, mountebank, hero, god
(in particular Cernunnos) and black Peter complex. Earth's spirited uproots feel rather unburdened
and voluntarized when drafted to join battle in the surging rootroute,
rock, rumble, rattle, wet, spout and sprout fieldwork. Savvy saviours,
royal beggars, streetmusicians, wayside shamen and forestfemales have common
denominotions. Toy and tell in the keys of Peter; (see
appendix 2): Rock; dense, crushed, fluffed and organisized; heavy,
volatile and rooted PIET ROCKS THE INCLING CLANG CLOCK- LOCKS
Who will steel his mettle to match and take it to the mint, square a way
with quintessentializing integration of head, hand, heart and hinge, who
will wiggle sexcalibur, who will find, fund and found Peter's key?, the
very selfsame one that opens both heaven and earth all at once or doesn't
when contro-, or perverted. Why not get Peter's perpetrapenetreator to
work; use that key to storm the gates of hell, empathy with the least does
the most, when we find our way back to the humbles with roaring rumbles
after leaving the path of stumbles, grumbles and mumbles we will be doing
allright, can we have a bigger blessing to b(e)less and do more to help
the cueing dream time crowd? Piet the percrushionist has the stone broke
and true coin of the realm issueing some unclustered dust from the thirsty
parts of the crust, ready to swell and grow with lust for life. He is a
true shine tieing, dust wetting, mudmoving lustre musterer. He stalks storms
and rides their crests, in a Kevlar Bucky ball covered with flexorganoplast
on a quest for rock to soak cause life suckles on mud. He lifts the downtrodden,
lowers the hi holies and strains the never yet seen roughly at first till
at last they pass through a very fine screen, and where wind would play
with wayward dust, he will still his batches of brood (broertje dood) with
the wild sky's waters and heavenly fire to soon show some real clean green
while fresh breathing air transpires off the home dome trees. Proaggress unorganized
rockfaces says Peter Pan the Pope so that time making but keeping rock
can stand to lose its strain to gain a dynamicly stretchable chain of rainbow
circum-sub-jectstantial objectionlessnes. To anchor and stabilize an impulsive, wavering
character, put a highly energetic, gullible and basically good man in gear,
Jesus nicknamed-famed-blamed-shamed him: Petrus. Does Peter Pan plug the Pope's propitious
clue properly? The lusty sweat behind thy brow can match
the dusty drought in thy rock to meet-mate-moisten it in the stircrazy
jetmist whirlwinds of thy grow-room into rockbeating-churchorgan pressure
play to spray pipes. Our task is clean cut out for pain through
strain size reduction, but most people neglect to assume this virtue that
goes with the leap of faith. (see the chapter 3, part 1 Ray doctrine).
Jesus coined a new nickname for Simon who
mistook himself for what he was supposed to be reminded to stand up for
and throttled the life out of himself instead of same into the rememberable
and personalizable subject. Crushed rock is like a decentralized, benevolent,
previously oppressive, inhospitable and impervious power structure empowering
powder. If this is true of such low life forms, how much more so must the
other end of the food chain find resonance and recursive mimicry connection
here to complete and close cycles to open spirals. Jesus saw that the brawling, impulsive, vital
and loyal but violent disposition of Simon was needed for this specific
job of literally shining light into darkness to feed the hungry and clothe
the naked, but he could not find the patience and humility then, were he
alive now he would try to find many souljerks and helmet headed ones again
to lend him an ear, but figuratively this time. Let's wet his reappear-dance appetite with
musical rock crushers, the best thing in the way of lifelushers that
might come close to his idea of a churchorgan(izer).Black peter raps on rocks to space their
content clutter, unwrap their natural talents, and redeem their bedevilishly
isolated matter, so their innards are no longer kept and held back from
the one sun of man by the many misfit sons of a bitch in the kitchen.Clean karma doesn't do what clean up karma
must undo: The individual is sovereign
and exercizes at his own cost, this is implied in the term: karma; it needs
to be reckoned and dealt with more specifically and made explicit in human
rights drafts. If there are recyclable spirits frolicking
up above, would they be glad or sad nobody has the knack to invoke their
presence, are these redress applicants cueing, waiting for and baiting
us employables to apply ourselves and unply complementary supplication
material with eminently deployable implement to squeeze the living daylights
into minerals? Burbanks bark: his efforts to sponsor a precious
chosen few (6 in 1.000.000) is unlike Hitler's, who's ruthless rout out
cared not where his subjects volition was at and condemned what did not
fit his future mold. Man is given to walk a piece of solid darkness,
glowing deep inside covered with a colourful maze of fruit in season, playing
hide, skin, bark and seek to help the meekmost heavies with frames, nets,
filters and hardy perrennial care ware scaling their ranges, full lip the
reaches and partition the spectra too...The unstable novelist modes of american culture
as seen by Gaile Mcgregor:
GARDEN
CITY OF NEW JERUSALEM noble
savage
soldier/policeman(submission)
(assertion) SAINT
CHAMPIONMODES OFHEROISM ANTI-HERO
ADVENTURERmadman (passive)
pioneer (active)criminal (active)
captive (passive)WORLD MACHINE
WILDERNESS..What with do we splatter, what with do
we splurge, to satisfy which choice of urge? Keep and call the ghastly
project(ile)s home and off, welcome them (properly punctu(gr)ated ones)
right through the birth canal from light photon, dust atom and water molecule
on up through to become biomassive soul supporters and juicyer cracks along
all axes of spin. Expect a chief behind all but the insultable
manner of guise.
A jerk jitters, fritters and fricts himself a way to a punc- and rupture,
a hero fracts himself a way to rapture. Search
out some seedy sins now, love 'm to life yet, for a clean slate with total
recall. Royal, priestly and purple peep hole prophetricks:
Memory lapse, weather awry, glacier grind, what makes us withhold you breath,
dear rock of ages? --animation:
taking your rocks for a stroll-- A death drive
is a dead drive, a life drive derives itfrom mental consolidation pitched
against the physical kind. P: Arbitrary autonomy
perpetuates privilege and privation. ---from
idol smash to ideal ash--- Do I care about
fresh air held captive in reducible rock? --please
don't mention the tension transvention in vain-- Royalty has the responsability of being within
earshot to open hearts, loyal to the hardest ones in nature and the softest
ones of angels and unborns, it always remains in full view of eyes that
see through time, it sports contact with death at stake to touch
it up to the point of loosening and beleaving it into fresh and lively
green nourishment versions of itself all along the food chain. I have high hopes for life to strike itself
a haven into heaps of deep and steep rocky riches, these crustal crystals
will concede access thanks to a cruising cross after the archetypical hearts,
not holding out, up against, nor even hold it off much longer. We can pay our inter esse between sunlight
and fresh trouble. We
may only fight inertia and old habits if we are willing to right God and
ourselves to organize our planet thoroughly by finding new ways to
help photosynthesis. A stone updating sprout totes his votecaster
with stout clout to mint without stint, affect the connect, end the isola-infect
and rub some space into rock, grub some grace from it and give it
a shine, so fresh and raw upstart dirt ends stale and sterile war
real fine. Aspire to become a muddler modeler, try to
give it some very best thought before its fate is bought and sold down
the river cause gravity has soul and its golems go for giggles. Nobody will buy my ideas right now, cause
he don't have any fear some how.
Breathing room creation is done with and to conspirational coins of the
realm; that constitutes coinspirallusive instinct solutionz to bring magnitude
and charisma to life in its wake.
I am social space filling cause physical
nonspace milling. Reincarnation is mentality recycling, it explains how
unrepentant, nonpreventant, blockbluster immature hordes of lords shall
be left equally as bereft of cleavage and cleft as they now keep others
from p-reaching the evolvalves of nurture and love...THE SOURCES FOR THIS CHAPTER6 Karma, charma and scarred is ma:
(8) Graves+---(5) Lyons----(4) Winter---(3) Keyserling
Randall and Campbell:"Sacred symbols of the ancients" from deVorss Publishers,
Box 550 Marina del Rey, Ca 90294 Gaile Mcgregor's "Noble savage
in the new world garden" literature on street
theatre wit, peaceful monstrations and attests, Fools, Clowns, Jokers,
Messiahs, Gods, etc. I cannot resist putting
a few very original conspiracy refs in here: Michael Topper
of: The New Thunderbird Chronicle from Pallisades, 15237 Sunset Blvd, St
29, Ca 90272, USA, a handout in Co-ops, written with the most exquisitely
"melodious" choice of words and phrasing which redeems a subject once again
perverted by worst case scenarios somewhat, he joined the flower of life
crouwd with Val Valerian and such.. London
psychogeographical Association, Box 15, 138 Kingsland High street, London
E8 2NS.UK, like so many reactionaries, they put up a fight for the old
holy places now in the wrong hands rather than creating new ones (see the
commendablinklist file for a critical note on the Neoist crowd spawned
by this lot). Jews and Jesuses:
(9) Robert Graves and Raphael Patai x x x
(4)
Lawrence William Lyons x x x (3)
Tom Pawlicki (see Appendix 0) x x x (3)
Lawrence Rickels x x x (4)
Theodor Lessing x x x Herbert
Poetzl x x x Ludwig
Klages x x x Alfred
Schuler x x x Werner
Sombart, Hans Rudolf Bartsch x x x Frederic
Grunfeld: "Prophets without honour" x x x
George Steiner: "Homeland: the text"
x x x Sander Gilman
x x x Otto Weininger
x x x I was once shown a Colorado room full
of provocative protocols of Zion-type propaganda from hundreds of sources
totally unknown to me up till then, a privilege of the hitchhiker with
good ears (and that of my physiognomically speaking that is, his
were even bigger) by a likable 60ish incarnation of Elijah, so he says,who
was ready or a courtbattle to reclaim his fabulous wealth, was this the
billionaire I had been standing by the roadside for so long for? see
also: the end of the chapter called: "loquaciously perspicacious linguae"

A
site navigaid:
Switch to soundbite sampled files of the newer works at this site from
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Use the links in the latter half to reach my older work (via
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These most mulled over bits are again briefly described (differently, including
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Systemics.Your host
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pinch pith to most universally assimilable of powders cause "it ain't so
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and gruesomely growsomizing autonomobiles"aim responses
at: poetpiet@hotbot.comsend your
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